Fevered
by Richefic
Summary: When DiNozzo disobeys a direct order, Gibbs is forced to take action but, does he know the whole story? Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - Not mine.

AN - This is a short one folks, part two up tomorrow.

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The smell of antiseptic was the first thing Gibbs noticed, followed by the feel of the stiff, starched, sheets beneath him, the steady beep, beep, of the monitor at his side and then the dull nagging ache in his shoulder and down his left side that hinted at greater hurts masked by medication.

Hospital.

He searched his memory, trying to piece together how he had landed up here this time. He remembered a mission to break up a drugs ring, a trail which led them overseas, there was some kind of altercation. He'd been shot. But there had also been a knife, glinting in the heat. Burning, intense heat, so that it felt like his whole body was on fire, salty perspiration trickling down his face and across his lips mocking his need for cool, clear water.

Water.

He tried to swallow over a dry throat. His tongue flicking out to wet, parched, cracked, lips, need overcoming discomfort as he forced out a single word.

"Water."

"He's awake again!" Abby's voice yelped. "Gibbs you're awake."

Making a supreme effort, Gibbs forced his eyes open, to see the Goth bouncing up and down at his bedside, as she celebrated.

"Its good to have you back with us again, Boss." At Abby's shoulder, McGee was smiling.

"I'll go and fetch a nurse." From the back of the room, Ziva's voice was calm and controlled but it held a hint of relief.

"Pass me that, will you Probie?"

Gibbs almost smiled as he turned his head slightly to see DiNozzo rising to his feet on his other side. It was good to know that all his team had made it through unscathed. A straw touched his parched lips and DiNozzo's voice informed him cheerfully.

"You know the drill, Boss. Take small sips."

At his words Gibbs was assaulted by a flashback of memories, lying in the burning sun, his side burning and his shoulder throbbing like the blazes. DiNozzo's hand cradled his head as he held a canteen to his lips.

"_You know the drill, Boss. Take small sips."_

_There was a burst of gunfire in the distance. He saw McGee's worried face and Ziva's anxious expression. A hurried conversation, words passing over Gibbs head too fast for him to register. Only enough to understand that they were coming and DiNozzo's plan was suicide. He'd struggled to focus his fevered brain enough to point out its flaws. DiNozzo was a dammed good cop but, he hadn't been in combat. He didn't know how these things went down. He felt his frustration mounting, Tony wasn't listening to him._

"_Damn it, DiNozzo," He rasped. "It's too risky."_

"_Boss," Tony looked down at him, his eyes dark and serious. "I can do this."_

"_No," Gibbs struggled to sit up. "Leave me. Get the Intel to the Embassy. Complete the mission. That's an order, DiNozzo."_

"_Gibbs," Tony had met his eyes and for a second Gbbs had thought he'd gotten through to him. But then the gunfire had sounded, closer this time, and DiNozzo had shaken his head. "Just hold on, okay?"_

"_DiNozzo, I gave you a direct order."_

"_I heard you, Boss," Tony had already been looking up and away. "They're coming." _

Gibbs held his peace through all the usual medical checks. He was slightly surprised to hear that he had already been in the Hospital for three days and that this was the second time he had woken up. He barely registered the Doctor's jocular hope that he might stay in the land of the living this time. Or his team's farewells as the medical staff chased them out of the room, claiming that he needed his rest.

"Not you, DiNozzo."

The younger man squeezed Abby's hand, murmured a word to Ziva and clapped McGee, on the shoulder, before he turned back. Stepping up to the bedside he looked solicitously at Gibbs.

"You need something, Boss?"

Gibbs looked at him silently for a moment, until Tony started to squirm slightly under that intense gaze.

"Look, Boss. You don't have to thank me," He began "We both know how it is. You would have done the same for me."

Gibbs eyes narrowed and Tony frowned at the waves of anger starting to radiate off the ex-Marine's tightly controlled posture.

"Boss?"

"You disobey a direct order, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"Oh that," Tony appeared to relax as he stepped a little closer to the bed and lowered his voice conspiratorially "Look Boss, .."

"Did you or did you not disobey my direct order, DiNozzo?" Gibbs snapped, annoyed that Tony didn't appear to be taking this seriously. He side hurt, his shoulder was throbbing and he hated everything being in the Hospital. But he had never been a man to leave his people hanging. It was always better to deal with these things ASAP, before they started to fester.

"_That _you remember." DiNozzo muttered,

"Dammed straight I remember, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped, "And you better start remembering. Or you can consider yourself off my team as of right now."

The younger man's eyes flashed but, he didn't speak, instead turning his head away so Gibbs could see the lines of tension along his jaw and the flush of colour in his cheeks. The ex-marine never liked disciplining DiNozzo. The kid always seemed to take his reprimands too much to heart. Still, better that, than looking at his body lying on Ducky's autopsy table.

"Start talking, DiNozzo."

Gibbs was a fair man and DiNozzo was one of the best and brightest Agents he had ever had the honour to work with. The ex-gunny realised that his memory might be a bit Swiss-cheesed by his wounds and what had obviously been a pretty bad fever. If DiNozzo had a reasonable explanation for his actions then he was ready to listen.

"Look Boss," DiNozzo still wouldn't look at him. "We got the bad guys. We all got out of there in one piece," He glanced guiltily at his Boss' injuries. "Mostly. Can't we just let this go?"

"No, Special Agent DiNozzo, we cannot just 'let this go'," Gibbs retorted sharply. "You had your orders. Your priority was to get that Intel to the Embassy. Instead, you risked your life and the lives of the rest of your team, not to mention a whole carrier full of navel personnel. You want to be the one to tell their families you risked their loved ones for the sake of a single NCIS Agent?"

"I didn't think we ever left a man behind." Tony tried to defend his actions.

"That's for Marines, DiNozzo. You are not a Marine!"

Afterwards, Gibbs would wish he had taken more time to explain what he meant by that. Marines had military back up and evac helos and special ops training that DiNozzo simply didn't have. Gibbs looked away, already regretting his choice of words, as the younger man paled, knowing DiNozzo would only hear his rebuke and not his underlying concern. Still, he was reluctant to take his words back now, better just to get this over with.

Disobedience to orders was a serious charge. If he passed this up the chain of command, DiNozzo could lose his job and his career in law enforcement would effectively be over. Gibbs didn't want to see that happen. On paper the mission was a success. No reason they couldn't keep the truth between themselves. He just needed to slap the kid down hard enough that they never had to have this conversation again.

"I'll write it up as gross insubordination," Gibbs informed him. "Consider yourself on report until further notice. You don't get to go out into the field until I say so. You don't get to touch a piece of evidence unless, I say so. If you so much as sneeze, without my permission, you're out the door, understood?"

"You're putting that in my file?" Tony blinked.

Gibbs didn't really approve of paper reprimands, complaining that they didn't do anything to teach someone how to do things better next time. He preferred to make his Agents talk through their own mistakes, to see where they had gone wrong, and then administer a swift kick in the pants or some kind of extra duty or training as necessary. In the years Tony had worked under him, he'd only made one mistake that Gibbs had deemed serious enough to write him up for it and Tony had vowed it would never happen again.

"I taught you better, DiNozzo."

He waited for Tony to say something. One of the things he most admired about DiNozzo was right from the get go, back in Baltimore, the kid had always the guts to stand his ground. Much as he admired the ex-marine, he had never been afraid to speak his mind. But although the younger man's jaw worked for a moment, indicating some inner struggle, he simply ducked his head and turned away. He was almost at the door, when he spoke, without turning.

"I'm sorry, Boss."

It was four more days before Gibbs could finally persuade the Doctors that he was fit to be released. During that time Abby had come by every day, Ziva had stopped by twice and McGee had come on the days she had missed. Ducky had visited with him first thing every morning and last thing at night, checking on Gibbs' medical progress and running him any errands he might need.

They had talked about work, what had happened to the bandits they had rounded up and in Abby's case the kick ass party she had been to the night before but, none of them had mentioned Tony and Gibbs had been too proud to ask. It wasn't like the younger man to sulk. Usually, when Gibbs metered out a dressing down, he gave as good as he got, or else he sucked it up, acknowledged that he had screwed up, and got on with the job. It also wasn't like him not to visit, on the rare occasions Gibbs had landed up in the Hospital he had always looked forward to DiNozzo dropping by.

"_Most people bring grapes," He'd observed, the first time DiNozzo had fronted up to the Hospital with a hot steak sandwich, a bottle of jack and a stack of case files._

"_You don't like grapes and you get bored easily."_

_Gibbs had shaken his head ruefully. The kid had only known him a few weeks. He wasn't used to being so easily read. But then, he had also recognised their connection, despite outward appearances, he and DiNozzo weren't so different underneath. _

Not to mention, that he considered DiNozzo on of the few people in his life who he counted as a friend, family even. He missed the man's easy presence, shovelling noodles in his face as he kept up a running commentary on some game or movie or other. Or his easy laugh as they played a little one on one in the driveway, Gibbs revelling in the fact that he didn't need to hold back, knowing that the younger man's skills were sharp enough to counter even his full on tactics. He even missed the opportunity to take care of him, pressing him into service in hosing down his patio as an excuse to cook him a proper breakfast, or nudging the pale and exhausted younger man, already on the edge of nightmares, to take that extra swallow of jack, so spending the night under his roof was the only sensible option.

"Duck," He looked out the window of the elderly MD's vintage car as they drove through the streets of Washington towards his home. He still smelt of Hospital and clutched a bag of prescription medication in his hands but, he was wearing his own clothes and planning on having a hot shower and eating a decent steak dinner as soon as "You want to tell me what's eating DiNozzo?"

"Honestly, Jethro, I thought you were never going to ask," Mallard rebuked. "It's been four days."

Gibbs turned his head to look at him, a little surprised at both the words and the tone. "Am I missing something here, Duck?"

"Anthony gave strict instructions to Ziva, Timothy and Abigail that they were not to discuss the situation with you. Since, I heard about it through, shall we say, rather more unofficial channels I have been bound by various confidences not to broach it either. I was beginning to think you were entirely unmoved by the poor boy's situation."

"Duck," Gibbs sighed. He had just got out of the Hospital and he wasn't feeling his best. "Just tell me what's going on."

"I'm sorry, Jethro," Mallard shook his head. "I rather think the precise details are something that you need to recall for yourself. Suffice to say that you have accused Anthony somewhat unfairly and that he cannot defend his actions without revealing, what would be for you, some rather unpalatable truths."

"Did the fever screw me up?" Gibbs paused. He could only imagine what he might have been like, stuck in a fever induced haze. Had he misunderstood what DiNozzo was trying to achieve? But that didn't make any sense. He had given the kid the chance to defend himself. "Why the hell didn't DiNozzo just say so?"

"He refuses to talk about it at all," Ducky huffed. "And Ziva and McGee are determined to follow his lead with a loyalty that does young Anthony credit. The boy was actually something of a hero. However, it seems the lad would rather 'take his lumps' as the pugilists might say, than hurt your feelings."

Gibbs shook his head. He couldn't remember. Had he acted like a raving lunatic? Had he said something about Shannon and Kelly? He knew that there were enough skeletons in his closet for his mind to be a dangerous thing when it was given free reign. And, at the end of the day, it really didn't matter what he had done.

"I'm an idiot, Duck."

"Jethro, you were badly wounded. You had lost a lot of blood and your fever was dangerously high. You can hardly be held responsible for your actions, whatever they were. The real miracle is that you manage to control your demons in civilised company most of the time."

Gibbs shook his head impatiently. He didn't mean that. Sure he was embarrassed as hell that wounded or not, he had apparently acted like an ass and put his people in danger. But there was something far more important at stake here.

"I should have trusted DiNozzo."

As the days had passed other little snippets of memory had returned. DiNozzo's expression as he leaned over him, his eyes creased with concern, the exertion on his face, as he half carried, half towed Gibbs through the undergrowth, the bright grin as he proudly handed him thick, juicy, slices of watermelon, (where the hell had the kid found watermelon anyway?), and the grim determination on his features as he had cocked his gun and sent McGee and Ziva to their positions as they came under attack.

"_Help's almost here," He had advised, his voice low and urgent. "We only have to hold then off for a few more minutes."_

"_That may be a few minutes too long." Ziva had warned him. "Of course, in that time, we can take several of them with us."_

"_That's what I like about you, Ziva," Tony had grinned. "You're always a glass half full kind of person."_

"_Um, Tony," McGee had started. "If we don't get out of this, I just want to say .."_

"_Save it, Probie," Tony had slapped him on the back. "Just think what a great chapter this is going to make in your next book. You can make me look like a hero."_

"Aw, hell."

He'd forgotten. How could he have forgotten? When the bandits had burst through the trees, McGee's position had been overrun and Ziva had run out of ammo, being forced to fight off her attackers hand to hand. Oblivious to the danger to himself, DiNozzo had put himself in front of the injured Marine, shielding him with his own body, as he held his position, using his bullets sparingly to buy them time and finally pulling out his blade.

"_You're probably not gonna remember any of this, Boss," He had cast over his shoulder. "But if we ever get out of here, remind me to buy a bigger knife."_

"Duck, can you make a detour? I need to do some shopping."


	2. Chapter 2

AN - Here is part two as promised. This will probably be my last story for a while as RL is pretty busy and, whilst I have other ideas in the works, I only have fragments written. As soon as something is finished I'll post it but it might be quite a while. In the meantime, hope you enjoy.

* * *

It took him some time to find the right one. He wanted to be sure that it was compact enough to be always to hand but substantial enough to be make a real difference in a fight. Size and weight wasn't a problem. He couldn't have told you what size clothes DiNozzo wore, but he knew exactly what he needed when it came to weapons. He knew as soon as he saw it that this was the one, his look daring Mallard to comment as he wrote the large check without a murmur of complaint.

"If you are intending to give that to Anthony," Mallard counselled, as they returned to the car. "He's still on Medical leave."

Gibbs frowned. He didn't remember that. Hadn't seen any sign at the Hospital that DiNozzo was injured. But then DiNozzo had always been the type to whine at a paper cut, play up a flesh wound but pass a life threatening injury off as nothing much.

"How bad?"

"Jethro, I really think this is something you and Anthony need to work out for yourselves."

"I'm still DiNozzo's CO. If something's happened to him that affects his fitness for duty then I need to know about it." Gibbs insisted. Mallard kept his eyes on the road and said nothing. It was clear he wasn't about to make this easy for him. "Damn it, Duck. You know how I feel about him."

"Indeed, _I_ do," The MD allowed. "Although, given the way you treat him on occasion, Tony could be forgiven for rather doubting your affections."

"I know," Gibbs sighed. "I do try."

The heartfelt sentiment was enough to wrest a look of sympathy from the elderly MD. He understood that Gibbs had been wounded too many times. He had seen enough of his marriages to know that the ex-gunny both craved human contact and seemed determined to push it away. The raw look on Gibbs face was enough to push Mallard to fill the resulting silence with a quiet admission.

"Anthony has abrasions on both his left and right wrists and a number of welts and contusions across his back, several of them broke the skin one caused some serious muscle damage."

Gibbs head came up sharply as he absorbed that information. A slow look of horror spreading across his face as he realised exactly what it meant but, even so, he had to ask the question, because just possibly he had misunderstood and it wasn't nearly that bad.

"He was tied up and whipped?"

"Anthony claims to be rather hazy on the details," Mallard tutted. "As far as I can ascertain, he was using his not inconsiderable talent for misdirection to keep the bandits attention focused on him."

"He was protecting me."

Gibbs didn't need to remember it to be sure it was true. It was the only thing that made sense. His brow furrowed, as he tried to recall. He had no visual memory of Tony being beaten but, the voices, floating on the thick, suffocating, air, came unbidden.

"_You know, Ziva, if you wanted to see me naked, all you have to do is ask." Tony's voice was laced with suppressed pain._

"_I have already seen you naked, as has most of NCIS," Ziva reminded him calmly, over the soft rustle of cloth. "You are lucky, not all of the blows have broken the skin. Although, these two are quite deep, I should clean those up."_

"_No, we can't spare the water." Tony vetoed that. _

"_Oh boy," McGee sounded relieved. "With all the yelling you were doing, I thought it would be must worse than this. I mean, not that that this doesn't look like it hurts like hell, it does, but the way you sounded, I honestly thought he was killing you."_

"_So, he did he, Probie, so did he," Tony retorted wearily. "That was kinda the idea. In my experience being stoic only gets you whipped longer and harder."_

"_You've been whipped before?"McGee frowned._

Gibbs was almost sure DiNozzo hadn't meant to let that slip, which suggested that his pain and blood loss was significantly worse than he wanted to admit. With luck McGee would assume that Tony was referring to some previous undercover operation, Gibbs made a mental note to lend some weight to that assumption, Lord knows, the Italian would be mortified if he thought McGee had worked out the truth.

"_And now, the next time they go up against you, they will underestimate the soft American and we will have the advantage." Ziva covered the awkward silence that followed McGee's question_

"_That was kinda the plan." Tony agreed._

"_Wait a minute, you actually wanted them to hurt you?" McGee was horrified._

"_They were looking to make an example of us" Ziva was pragmatic. "This way it was on our terms," Her tone softened into a smile, as she bestowed the greatest comfort she could to her suffering partner. "Gibbs would be very proud."_

"I'm going to kill him," Gibbs vowed. He knew more than anyone what submitting that particular punishment would have cost DiNozzo. He could hardly have failed to draw comparisms with his father's own heavy handed corrections, whipping his small son with a belt, long and hard enough to cause bleeding welts and permanent scars. "Of all the dammed fool hardly things to do. What the hell was he thinking?"

"I rather believe he was thinking that he would do whatever it took to keep himself and his co-workers alive," Mallard observed. "Of course, I cannot imagine where he might have got such an idea."

"He's not my dammed whipping boy." Gibbs snarled with rare, genuine, anger. He would rather have cut off his own arm than subject the emotionally insecure young man to such a vivid reminder of his childhood abuse.

"Apparently, he thinks otherwise," Mallard retorted. "He wanted to protect you Jethro. He has done everything in his power to prevent you finding out at what cost. He's not one of your ex-wives. He didn't do it to make you feel guilty. Or for a public pat on the back. He did it because he loves you."

"You tryin' to make me feel worse, Duck?"

"You love him too, Jethro. In my experience, children can never be told too many times that they are loved and cherished."

"DiNozzo's not a child."

"No," Mallard agreed. "But you are the closet thing that he has to a father."

Gibbs thought about that as he turned the knife, in its velvet-covered box, over and over in his hands. As an apology it only went so far. Gibbs wasn't a great one for words but certain things deserved to be honoured. Spotting a small strip mall, he scanned the storefronts until he saw what he wanted.

"Duck, pull over here, will you?"

"Jethro, you've only just been released from the Hospital, you really should.." Mallard's words echoed to the empty car as Gibbs strode off across the sidewalk. "be resting."

It only took a few minutes to engrave the inscription on the knife handle. Gibbs ignored the slightly odd look the clerk gave him as he scrawled the words on a scrap of paper. Let the man think what he wanted. From there it was only a short drive to DiNozzo's apartment, before he got out of the car Mallard caught his arm and fixed him with a serious look.

"Jethro," Mallard sighed, obviously torn between betraying further confidences and caring for both of his friends. "He thinks the world of you, you know."

"I know, Duck."

Gibbs hesitated at the door to DiNozzo's apartment. He usually just let himself in using the key Tony had given him, hollering as he passed through the hallway to announce his arrival. This time he knocked, feeling that DiNozzo had earned to right to tell him to get lost if he wanted.

"Gibbs." Tony looked surprised to see him.

He was dressed casually in an old, loose short sleeved, cotton shirt and a pair of sweats, with his bare feet still tanned from the intense heat. His hair was tousled and he hadn't bothered to shave that morning. Hadn't been up long either if the milk moustache he was wearing on his upper lip was anything to go by. Swiping at his face, he faltered slightly as he caught Gibbs looking at the white bandages on his wrists.

"Brought you something." Gibbs didn't waste time on preliminaries as he offered the box.

Tony gave him an odd look, but accepted the box and walked down the hallway towards the small kitchen, leaving the front door open in invitation. Gibbs closed it behind him as he followed the younger man, noting critically how DiNozzo walked carefully as if an unguarded movement might pain him.

Damn.

Tony set the package carefully on the kitchen table, dumped his half finished cereal bowl in the sink, before reaching up and pulling out the good coffee Gibbs knew he kept especially for him. Gibbs allowed himself a small smile DiNozzo's movements were slow but, not restricted. He should have known that Mallard would be as draconian about the kid taking his pain meds as he usually was. After setting the machine in motion Tony turned back to the table and looked at his gift.

"Well, it's not ticking."

"DiNozzo, just open it."

As he carefully opened the box and looked at the knife nesting inside colour flooded his cheeks and he looked at Gibbs with eyes both questioning and hopeful.

"It's a good knife, might even save _your _life one day." Gibbs offered.

"You remembered."

"That I'm a dammed fool?" Gibbs sighed. "Yeah, DiNozzo, I did."

"You were pretty sick, Boss," Tony's voice was soft. "For a while there, even after we got you back to the States, the Doc's weren't sure you were going to make it."

"You should have told me everything." Gibbs rebuked gruffly.

"It wasn't important."

And it hadn't been. Tony hadn't cared about the reprimand racked up against Gibbs' feelings a piece of paper in his file had been a small price to pay. The fact that his Boss thought he had screwed up, that had been a little harder to live with but, he already felt he owed Gibbs more than he could ever repay and he'd felt strongly enough about what he was doing to resist all Ziva and McGee's attempts to persuade him to come clean.

"Not important?" Gibbs challenged, his eyes flashing. "You think I would have just stood by and let then whip you?"

"I knew you wouldn't have," Tony rubbed his thumb over the knife. "That's what made it bearable."

"_DiNozzo."_

"Boss, you were already in pretty bad shape. You had a bullet in your shoulder and you'd been gutted like a fish. You lost a lot of whole lot of blood and the wounds were already infected, driving your fever up. If they had thought you were in command they would have whipped you and you'd probably be dead right now," Tony looked away. "It's not like I haven't been whipped before."

"Well, yeah. I know that, DiNozzo. That's why I'm so pissed," Gibbs retorted, letting his own pain show. "Damn it, Tony. You don't owe me that."

"See, this is why I wouldn't tell you," Tony threw him a look that was half challenge, half fond exasperation. "You wouldn't have had any problem with my taking a bullet for you. I swear, Gibbs you have more issues with my father than I do."

"How bad is it?"

"The Doc says it should all heal no problem. The scabs itch like crazy though," Tony admitted ruefully. "Ducky gave me some cream."

"That it?" Gibbs spied a small jar on the shelf.

"I thought your eyesight was supposed to be shot." Tony complained.

The jar was unopened. DiNozzo hadn't even tried to break the seal. Inwardly, Gibbs sighed. It was damn near impossible to dress wounds on your own back. Turning back to look at the younger man he raised a questioning brow.

"Ducky offered to come around and help me with it but, he has his Mother to worry about so, I told him Abby would do it but, if I asked her she would have to miss out on her clubbing. So, I told Abby, McGee was taking care of it but, he's just starting seeing this new girl, so I let him think Ziva was coming around, and while asking Ziva to rub cream into my prone naked body has its appeal.."

Before he got to finish the sentence Gibbs had reached across and slapped him over the back of the head. Then he plucked the jar off the shelf, scrutinizing it for a moment to check the instructions, before he put it in his pocket.

"Where are your meds?"

"Bathroom cabinet," Tony looked up. "Boss, you only just got out of the Hospital."

"You got a point, DiNozzo?"

"Not me, Boss."

Gibbs was already moving down the hallway, without waiting for an answer. Tony heard him pulling the meds out of the bathroom cabinet, before making a detour to the master bedroom, using his good arm to pick up the bag DiNozzo always left packed in the closet.

In the kitchen, Tony smiled, as he turned the knife over in his hands, opening it to its full extent to admire the excellent balance and razor sharp blade, pausing as he spotted the square lettering engraved onto the smooth handle. As he read the words, a soft, pleased, smile, spread across his face. He rubbed the words lightly before carefully folding the knife and slipping it into his breast pocket, next to his heart.

Much later, after a long hot bath and a home cooked meal, Tony stretched out carefully on Gibbs large battered leather couch, luxuriating in the softness of the towelling robe, not surprised when the ex-marine's hand appeared in his line of vision, holding two white pills and a glass of milk.

"I'm good, Boss."

"Cut the macho crap, DiNozzo," Gibbs said not unkindly. "I need to dress your back. It's going to hurt like hell."

"Gee Boss," Tony commented as he obediently swallowed the pills. "Your bedside manner is nearly as good as Ducky's."

"Bedroom. Now."

"What? No foreplay?" Tony used a leering grin to cover his grimace as he levered himself to his feet, looking cheekily over his shoulder as he preceded Gibbs up the stairs. "You know, that might explain why you have three ex-wives, unless, of course, they like that whole dominance thing."

"You want to see dominance, DiNozzo?" Gibbs kept his face expressionless but he knew his amusement showed in his eyes. "Spread 'em."

As DiNozzo let the robe drop and climbed onto the turned down bed, all amusement drained from Gibbs' expression. The welts were red and angry, the bottom two deep enough to have sliced through skin and muscle, covered with dark, fragile, scabs. Quickly, he schooled his expression, knowing Tony would be mortified if he saw his pity.

"You will be gentle with me, right Boss?" Tony continued in the same teasing vein, twisting his head slightly to look over his shoulder as Gibbs failed to answer over the lump in his throat. "Boss?"

"Quit squirming, DiNozzo," Somehow Gibbs kept his face expressionless. "Let's get this over with."

In spite of himself, Tony tensed as Gibbs set to work, smearing the cold cream across the hot, itching, half healed scabs. Gibbs said nothing, concentrating on his task, as he worked the soothing cream gently into the welts, the small circlar motions weren't so taxing he couldn't use both hands, suppressing a self-satisfied smile as he felt Tony begin to relax under his hands.

"You better not be enjoying this too much, DiNozzo," He kept his tone gruff. The last thing he wanted was for Tony to feel awkward about such an intimate act of caring. "I'm not one of your dammed girlfriends."

"S'nice though." Tony smiled lazily into the pillow. "You could maybe go into business once you retire. Plus, if you wore the uniform people would probably pay extra."

Gibbs grinned, as he finished up and wiped his hands. "Get some rest, Tony."

His Agent murmured as he twisted over onto to his side, his face contorting as his hip hit an uncomfortable lump, reaching into the pocket of the robe, Gibbs fingers closed over the smooth shaft of the knife, pulling it out he gently tucking the covers over his Agent now relaxed and almost boneless Agent. Resisting the urge to tousle his hair he smiled at the engraving on the knife handle before putting it down on the bedside cabinet where it would be the first thing Tony saw in the morning,

_Tony DiNozzo 04.24.06 Hero Love LJG_


End file.
